Troy High

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Troy High Page 5

by Shana Norris


  “The way I feel about Perry, it’s … different. Amazing. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” She gave me a half-smile. “I made the right decision, I’m sure. And now I’ll let you go back to sleep.” She stood and started toward my door. “By the way,” she said, pausing to point to one of the pictures taped to my mirror, “I can’t believe Greg let you put that horrible picture up.”

  The picture was from band camp two years ago, when Greg and I had first met. He had thick braces, bad acne, and hair that he had tried to grow out that year to look cool but instead looked like a huge frizzball. I had taken the picture on our last day at camp, when I had dared Greg to stuff as many grapes into his mouth as he could during breakfast. His cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk’s full of nuts, and he grinned wide, showing the mouthful of grapes and braces, which had remnants of his breakfast stuck in them.

  It was one of my favorite pictures ever and it always made me happy to look at it.

  I thought about Greg and the anger I’d seen in his eyes the night before. “Is Perry really worth all the trouble you caused?” I asked.

  Elena turned back to me, her eyes shining. “Of course!”

  I tried to smile as she waved and left the room.

  I was thankful that Greg didn’t suspect that I’d known Elena planned to dump Lucas for Perry. At least no one had given that secret away during the scene the night before.

  But I still worried a little that Greg might be mad at me for leaving the game to go with Elena and Perry, so I called him and got him to agree to meet me at TJ’s, our favorite pizza place on Lacede’s side of town. We always ordered the same thing, a large thin-crust pizza with everything, no mushrooms on Greg’s half and extra mushrooms on mine.

  He walked into the restaurant five minutes later. Glancing quickly at me, he moved toward the table, his hands buried deep in his pockets and his eyes focused on the floor.

  “Hey,” he said as he slid into the seat across from me.

  “Hi,” I answered.

  We were silent for nearly a full minute. I played with the paper from my straw wrapper while I tried to think of the right thing to say.

  Millie, our waitress, saved me from having to decide right away. “Hey, honey,” she greeted Greg. We were at TJ’s so often that she knew our names, but she always called everyone honey. “The usual?”

  Greg nodded.

  “Okay,” Millie said, smiling wide. “I’ll be right back with your Coke and the pizza.”

  Once again, we were alone, sitting silently. Greg stared at the wall over my shoulder.

  “Hi, Greg!” some girls called as they walked into the restaurant. Spartan cheerleaders. I recognized them from the game. I shot a quick glare at their backs as they headed across the room.

  The jealousy that flooded through me helped give me courage.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have left the game with Elena after what happened.”

  “You didn’t have to stay,” Greg said. “But I kind of thought that you might. I thought we were best friends.”

  “We are,” I said softly. “But I wasn’t sure that you wanted to see me right then, since you walked away like that. And Elena had just dumped your brother for mine.”

  Millie returned with Greg’s drink and the pizza. Once she had left and we had both served ourselves a slice, Greg said, “Why would that make me not want to see you?”

  I twisted a string of cheese around my finger. “I don’t know. It just seemed like you might be mad at me.”

  “No, I’m mad at Elena and Perry. Lucas is my brother, so I have to be mad at them.”

  “And Perry is my brother,” I pointed out. “But that doesn’t mean I have any hard feelings toward Lucas.” I put my pizza down on my plate and looked at him. “How’s he doing, anyway?”

  “He’s doing as well as he can after being dumped,” Greg said. “He messed up a lot of easy plays last night during the second half. We lost, by the way, 38–14. Coach called the house last night after the game, and he and Lucas talked for a long time. Lucas isn’t punching holes in the wall, so I assume that’s a good sign.”

  I sighed. “Good. I told Elena this morning that she should have chosen a different time to break up with him.”

  “You talked to Elena this morning?”

  I looked at the clock on the wall. “Well, actually it was only about an hour ago. I slept really late today. She came over to tell me—” I broke off, realizing what I was about to say.

  “To tell you what?” Greg asked.

  I stared down at the table, tracing a crack in the laminate with my fingernail. “To tell me about her night with Perry.”

  Greg gripped his glass in one hand, his knuckles tight. “That girl is … Ugh, I can’t even think of an adequate word to describe her. She stomps all over Lucas’s heart and then she just goes off with her new boyfriend.”

  “I know,” I said. “She does feel bad, though. She thought it would be good for Lucas to work out his frustrations during the game.”

  Greg sat in silence, stirring his Coke with his straw. I chewed my pizza, watching him.

  “So what’s going on with you and Elena?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “We’re friends.”

  “Elena Argos has never given you a second look during all the times she’s seen you at my house, and now she’s suddenly your new best friend?”

  I raised one eyebrow at him. “She’s not my best friend.”

  Greg’s ears reddened a bit. “You can be friends with whoever you want. I just thought the two of you were an odd pairing, that’s all.”

  “Why?” I snapped. “Because Elena is so beautiful and popular and I’m just some plain, unnoticeable dork?”

  “You know I don’t think that,” Greg said, staring hard at me. “But really, what do you and Elena have in common?”

  I sat up straighter. “Lots of stuff,” I said. “Girl stuff that you would never understand.”

  Greg rolled his eyes. Before he could speak, the chime on the door sounded and Lucas walked in, followed by his friends Owen, Ackley, and Patrick. I knew Owen better than Ackley or Patrick, although all of them were on Lacede’s football team and I’d seen them around Greg and Lucas’s house several times. Owen was friendly, but Ackley kept more to himself and was always shadowed by his best friend, Patrick. Also, I doubted Ackley had wanted to spend much time in my presence over the past year, ever since Hunter injured his ankle in the game between Lacede and Troy.

  Lucas headed in our direction when he spotted Greg and me.

  “Well, if it isn’t a Trojan in Spartan territory,” Lucas said, looking down at me. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes.

  “Leave her alone, Lucas,” Greg told him.

  Lucas, ignoring his brother, leaned down so that he was eye level with me. “Tell your brother that he has no idea what he’s started. Steal from me, and you have to deal with every Spartan wanting revenge.”

  “Cassie has nothing to do with what her brother does,” Greg said.

  Lucas turned toward Greg. “You, little brother, need to decide who you’re loyal to. What’s it going to be? Family or friend?”

  My heart felt as if it were running a marathon inside my chest. I had never seen that wild look in Lucas’s eyes before. I didn’t doubt for a moment that he could and would do something to have revenge.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Lucas,” Greg said in a calm voice. “You’re just really upset right now. Take a few days to settle down.”

  “He won’t listen,” Owen spoke up, shaking his head. “I’ve already tried. He just says that I owe him allegiance if I want to keep my position on the football team and, well, I’m really counting on a football scholarship for college.” He shrugged and shot me an apologetic look.

  “The Trojans will pay,” Patrick said, punching a fist into one hand. “I can’t wait to get my hands on them.”

  “Especially that big Trojan quarterback,” Ackley growle
d, glaring at me. “I owe him payback for what he did to me last year.”

  “No one takes anything from me and gets away with it,” Lucas said. “Perry Prince has started a war.”

  THAT NIGHT, I RODE TO TROY WITH MY PARENTS. Perry and Hunter had already left an hour before to get ready for the game. I wore my band uniform, with my red plumed helmet tucked under one arm and my flute case in the other.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Mom asked, her eyes shining as she looked around at the number of people milling between the gate and the bleachers. “Everyone around here really comes out to support the football team.”

  “We take pride in our boys,” Dad said, puffing his chest out. I could already tell he was reminiscing about his own football days. I had to make my escape before he started in on another story I’d heard a thousand times.

  “I have to go join the rest of the band,” I said. “I’ll see you after the game.”

  I headed toward the end of the bleachers where the band sat, but halfway there I heard someone call my name. Elena waved to me from where she stood with the rest of the cheerleaders, all wearing matching red-and-black uniforms.

  “Hey,” I said, walking over to her.

  “Did you talk to Greg today?” Elena asked. “How is Lucas doing?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Do you really care?”

  Elena looked hurt. “Yes, I care. Just because I broke up with him doesn’t mean I want him to be miserable forever.”

  I remembered the furious look in Lucas’s eyes earlier that afternoon. “He’s upset, but he’ll get over it.” I hoped. I had been on edge since my run-in with the Spartans, and the worried feeling in my stomach would not go away.

  Elena smiled. “He’ll find someone who is perfect for him.” She glanced toward the locker rooms, her smile widening. “Just like I did.”

  “Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’ll see you after the game.”

  I made my way toward the bleachers, where people were already gathering to watch the kickoff. On the other side of the field, the Clark High School cheerleaders performed for a few people sitting in the visitors’ bleachers.

  The band launched into the Troy fight song and the football players came running onto the field. The crowd around us was on its feet, shouting and clapping and stomping. The cheerleaders jumped up and down, flipped along the grass, and cheered as the guys passed them, walking tall and steady like a band of warriors preparing for battle.

  “We love you, Perry!” some girls behind me shouted.

  The crowd booed as Clark High jogged onto the field.

  Troy won the first kickoff, and Perry and the rest of the defensive line waited on the sidelines while Hunter and his offense took the field.

  Despite the support from the crowd, Troy was down 3–14 by the end of the first half. Whenever I wasn’t playing, my hands were gripped around my flute, so tight that I had imprints from the keys in my palms. I couldn’t help worrying about my brothers whenever I watched a game. How could they stand to take those hits? Before halftime, Perry had been slammed into the ground by a Clark player twice his size. When he didn’t immediately get up, Coach Wellens and a medic rushed onto the field to make sure he was okay. Although Perry wasn’t always my favorite person in the world, I was happy to see him walk off the field unharmed.

  I didn’t know what went on in the locker room during halftime, but whatever it was, it got the Trojans fired up. The guys intercepted Clark’s passes, tackled their runners to stop them from gaining yards, and made significant movement down the field.

  And then a low murmur started up around me during the last two minutes of the game. Something toward the end of the field had caught a lot of people’s attention. People were craning their necks and talking. I stood up a little in my seat to see.

  A group of guys and girls were outside the waist-high chain-link fence. They wore the dark blue letterman jackets of Lacede High School. I strained to see who was there.

  Lucas leaned on the fence next to Ackley and said something to him. Ackley nodded, his eyes still on the field.

  And then I saw another face in the group that made me hold my flute in a death grip. Greg was there, standing next to Owen.

  I could understand the football players coming to check out the game, but why was Greg with them?

  By now a lot of other people had noticed the Spartans, too, including the cheerleaders and the Troy players on the sidelines. The cheerleaders kept looking at Lucas and his friends and then whispering to one another. The Troy football players paced a little and tried to look intimidating.

  It felt as if the people around me were holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. The worried knot in my stomach tightened. The Lacede guys stared at the Trojans menacingly.

  Now I actually wished the game clock wouldn’t tick down so fast. I wanted the game to last forever to keep everyone occupied.

  But eventually, the last second changed to zero and the horn sounded, indicating the end of the game. Clark High had not been able to get any more points during the second half. Troy had won 31–14.

  The players who had been on the sidelines alerted Hunter to the presence of the Lacede players. Hunter stared at Lucas for a moment, until Coach Wellens ordered him to the locker room.

  “Have a good night, everyone,” Ms. Holloway said to us as we packed up our instruments.

  I worked slowly, letting other people on the bleachers leave as I stayed seated and carefully put my flute back into its case. My parents wouldn’t be waiting for me, since I had planned to go out with Elena and everyone after the game.

  The Spartans remained at the fence, leaning casually against it as if being at Troy was something they did every day.

  Several of the Troy spectators eyed the Lacede guys as they made their way down the bleachers. The cheerleaders stood in a tight group on the grass, glaring back at the Spartan girls. I figured the girls must have been Spartan cheerleaders who had come to terrorize their former leader at her new home.

  As the crowd thinned, I picked up my flute case and walked down the bleachers to the group of Spartans.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, focusing on Lucas and Greg.

  “I came to watch some football,” Lucas said.

  “You missed everything except the last two minutes,” I pointed out.

  “Just came to pay a little visit to our football friends,” Lucas said, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

  Greg glanced at Lucas, then looked at me. “Cassie, maybe you should go home.”

  I crossed my arms. “I am not leaving until all of you do. The game is over.”

  “Not quite,” Lucas told me. “I have some business to attend to with your brother.”

  “Get out of here,” Elena said, stepping up to my side.

  “Look who it is, girls,” said one of the Spartan girls, sneering at Elena. “The traitor herself.”

  Elena rolled her eyes. “I had no choice but to come to Troy. School rezoning, remember?”

  “But you did have a choice who you decided to give your loyalty to,” the cheerleader snapped.

  “Here they come,” Owen said in a low voice, looking over our shoulders.

  I glanced behind me to see Perry and Hunter had emerged from the locker room, followed by the rest of the Troy players. They were headed across the field toward us.

  Turning back around, I stared hard at Greg, pleading silently for him to talk some sense into his brother and go home.

  Greg wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

  As the Trojans reached the fence separating them from the Spartans, more people had joined them. The cheerleaders stood behind the guys, along with a few other Troy students. There were about thirty Trojans compared to the fifteen Spartans standing with Lucas, but the Spartans didn’t back down as the Trojans drew close.

  “What do we have here?” Hunter asked. “A few wayward Spartans far from home?”

  The Trojan cheerleaders giggled nervously as
they watched the guys to see what they would do next.

  Lucas stared at Perry, moving closer to the fence so that they stood only inches apart.

  “We came to pay our respects,” Lucas told him, “before we kill you on the field.”

  Perry snorted and the other Trojans laughed. “Why don’t you back up your threats with action?” he asked. “Why wait for the field?”

  Lucas stepped forward again, holding his arms out to each side. “Fine, let’s settle things right now.”

  I noticed Perry’s jaw twitch. Lucas was bigger than Perry was, and his entire body had tensed, as if waiting to jump on Perry at any moment.

  Perry snorted again, grinning wide to his fans behind him as if Lucas’s threats didn’t bother him at all. But I knew him better than they did. Perry was nervous. All I had to do was see the way his nostrils flared slightly and how wide his eyes opened. He looked toward Hunter for reassurance.

  “I’d hate to mess up your pretty face,” Perry said, reaching out to pat Lucas’s cheek over the fence.

  Lucas slapped Perry’s hand away, and Hunter stepped forward.

  “You got a problem with my brother, take it up with me,” Hunter said.

  Ackley stared hard at Hunter, his hands curled into tight fists.

  Lucas laughed, his eyes on Perry. “Going to let your brother fight your battles for you?”

  “You’re one to talk, Lucas,” Elena said, her arms crossed over her chest. “How many times has Greg gotten you out of things?”

  Lucas glared back at her in silence.

  “At least I know how to be loyal to the people I care about,” Greg said. “But you just run off with whoever happens to smile in your direction.”

  “Perry did not steal me away,” Elena snapped. “Ask Cassie. She knows everything.”

  Oh, great. Thanks a lot, Elena.

  Greg looked at me. “What does she mean?”

  “Cassie knows I’ve been wanting to break up with Lucas for days,” Elena said.

 

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